Changing Roles

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Changing Roles Page 11

by Melanie Moreland


  Maybe I was still drunk.

  Shelby laughed, but she didn’t really sound amused. The sound frightened me a little, and I backed up.

  “Well, don’t worry about that, Liam. Not only did you waste your time ‘staking your claim,’ there isn’t a chance in hell you’re going to be ‘fucking around’ with me.”

  I grimaced. “No?”

  She inched toward me. Close enough I could smell her light fragrance. Feel the heat of her breath on my skin.

  “Not unless hell freezes over.”

  She stepped back.

  “Enjoy your sushi.”

  I was sure she muttered “wanker” on her way out of the room. There might have been a “fucking” in front of it as well. But I couldn’t be sure. Sounded about right, though. My own stupid word-vomit was echoing in my ears. Maybe I needed to write my own rule book—one that contained nothing but do-not-do’s.

  I sat on the chair heavily. As my first time declaring my love, I’d say that wasn’t how it should have gone.

  As Everett would say, I cocked it up.

  Badly.

  By midweek, I was certain I was going to explode.

  To anyone who saw or interacted with me, everything seemed normal. I attended various meetings, talked and planned with Everett. When he arrived on Monday morning, I only looked at him with a subtle shake of my head, and he knew. He didn’t say a word to either of us an acted as if nothing was wrong. He muttered one word to me before he left that night—patience. And bloody hell, I was trying.

  I studied my upcoming script daily, and even went to the gym voluntarily. Everything seemed normal.

  But it wasn’t. Shelby wasn’t normal.

  When she reappeared on Sunday afternoon, Beaker was gone, and she was, for the first time ever, my housekeeper.

  A bloody perfect, distant housekeeper.

  She cooked for me, even ate with me, filling the silence with horrendous idle chatter. She talked about redecorating the space over the garage that Marie used to have, constantly showing me samples I had no interest in. But I pointed and nodded obediently at the options she obviously wanted me to choose anyway, hoping she would stop and become Shelby again. She was like a person possessed by her swatches, clutching them like a talisman against me. I missed the comfortable silences we used to share.

  I missed her.

  Tuesday night, I made up a false meeting and escaped to the safety of Douglas’s place; he called me a wanker, but otherwise let me hide for a while.

  I didn’t like distant, housekeeper Shelby.

  There was absolutely no touching. No affectionate hugs or sweet teasing.

  My schedule was printed and left by my plate every morning.

  My coffee was still hot and fresh, but no longer accompanied by a pair of warm lips brushing my cheek as Shelby handed me the mug.

  No foot rubs on the sofa for her while we watched movies. No head rubs for me while I talked about some funny thing that happened during the day. No teasing and putting me in my place. In fact, no movies.

  She worked endlessly. Morning until night. She scrubbed and cleaned. Organized and fixed. Baked and cooked. Filled the freezer. Ironed everything I owned.

  The whole time with no music playing.

  That freaked me out the most.

  Shelby always had music playing.

  The house was utterly…empty. I was empty.

  I walked into the kitchen on Thursday afternoon to find both Lily and Everett at the table. They looked solemn. “What’s up? Fashion day not going well?” I asked lightly, trying to fight the sudden tightening of my stomach.

  Lily smiled, but it looked forced. “I think we’ve picked a dress.”

  “Good.”

  “If it’s, ah, still needed.”

  Bloody what?

  Everett cleared his throat. “Gillian is available this weekend, Liam, if you would rather she…” His voice trailed off as I gaped at him.

  “Is Shelby not coming with me?” Just the thought made me cringe. She kept me calm—I needed her.

  “She wondered if maybe you would prefer someone else.”

  Enough of this crap. I was done. “Where is Shelby?”

  “She went to get something upstairs.”

  “Stay here. Both of you.”

  SHELBY

  I heard Liam’s pounding footsteps heading my way, and I braced myself for what was coming. I wiped at my face, feeling exhausted.

  Ever since his unexpected declaration the other day, my life had been in turmoil.

  Once he uttered the words, I couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

  I had stormed up the stairs to my room, pacing the floor. My lips still tingled from the feeling of Liam’s moving with mine. My chest ached with how much I wanted to feel them again. To feel him pressed against me. My mind was racing with his declarations. I was shocked by his words. Only, he couldn’t possibly mean them.

  There was no way he could be in love with me.

  He could have anyone. Why would he want me?

  No. He was worried about me dating again and deserting him. It had to be that simple. He was only reacting, not feeling.

  I slipped to the floor, resting my head against the side of my bed, my body suddenly tired.

  Liam needed to be looked after. That was what I did. The thought of me maybe not doing that was what started this change in him. He had been acting strangely since the morning Douglas asked me out. Liam didn’t want to lose me—as his housekeeper.

  Despite what he said about the “wisdom” imparted to him by Douglas and Everett, he couldn’t be in love with me.

  My head fell back as I thought about it.

  What him loving me would be like.

  How open and affectionate he would be. How much he would make me laugh. How it would feel to have him kiss me—really kiss me. Make love to me.

  Until, of course, he grew tired of it, of me. Because he would; I had nothing exciting to offer him. He lived in a world of glamorous people; he traveled, dined in exclusive restaurants, and attended elite functions. All of which were captured on film and posted for everyone to see. Why would he want his housekeeper to be a part of that?

  When and if he changed his mind, I would lose everything. There was no way I could stay once he came to his senses. The house I had come to think of as my home. The quiet, happy life I had made here.

  Liam.

  I would lose Liam.

  I swiped away the hot, angry tears that dripped down my face.

  I couldn’t risk it.

  As much as it killed me, I had to keep things the way they were—platonic.

  I could still be his friend, but I needed to set boundaries and act properly. Once he understood I wasn’t going anywhere, he would go back to being Liam and forget his drunken epiphany.

  I would rather break my own heart and still be a small part of his world than to risk him walking away from me and losing everything that meant so much.

  I would rather watch him fall in love with someone else and be happy than risk me making him unhappy and regretting his ill-thought-out decision.

  My head fell into my hands as I sobbed.

  I had to do this. I had to be strong.

  Because I couldn’t lose him.

  I allowed myself the time to cry it out. Then I washed my face and went back to the reason I was here.

  The role I could play safely.

  I needed to step back and be exactly what he hired me to be: his housekeeper.

  I knew my decision came with a cost. Liam wanted me to be his wingman at the events he had to go to. Play his girlfriend, hold his hand, and cover for the horrendous panic he experienced in public. I had promised, and now I was reneging. I simply wasn’t strong enough to pretend—not when he was still under the delusion that he was in love with me. It wasn’t fair to him, or to me. Because for me, it wasn’t an illusion. I knew I loved him, but I couldn’t tell him. He needed his partner to be more than I could be for him. It was best he
went back to his friends to help him out. There was no danger there of real feelings bleeding into the mix and messing things up. I had been too much of a coward to tell him, so Everett and Lily were doing so.

  But from the sounds of his heavy footfalls and cursed mutterings, he was coming to challenge me. I braced myself for the onslaught. I had to be strong.

  For both of us.

  LIAM

  I met Shelby in the hallway and, without a word, grabbed her arm and dragged her into the den, shutting the door loudly behind her.

  “Are you not coming with me on Saturday?”

  She looked everywhere but at me. “I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable—”

  I interrupted her. “I’d be most comfortable with you, Shelby.” I drew in a deep breath. “My Shelby. Not the perfect Stepford-wife housekeeper version that’s been running around the house the last few days.”

  I paced, running my hands through my hair in frustration. “I realize I shocked you the other day. I know I handled it badly.” I stopped and stared at her. “But pretending it didn’t happen isn’t working. I said it. I meant it. I love you.”

  She started to shake her head, and for the first time ever, I became angry with her.

  “Don’t you dare stand there and tell me I don’t, Shelby. I know you think I’m a git and can’t possibly be mature enough to have those feelings for you, but I assure you, I do. I am not a child. The only separation issue I feel is the thought of losing you to another man because I waited too bloody long to tell you how I feel.” By the time I finished, I was almost yelling, but I was so upset I couldn’t stop it.

  Her eyes filled with tears, and instantly, my anger deflated.

  “That’s not what I think, Liam.”

  I sat heavily on the sofa. “I get it. I really do. You don’t feel the same way. Or, at least, you’re not ready to admit you do. I should have handled this better.” My head fell into my hands. “Don’t take away your friendship. If nothing else, let me be your friend. I miss you so much, Beaker.” I sighed. “I need you beside me Saturday. If you can’t come as my date, promise me you’ll come as my friend. That’s all I’m asking. Please.”

  For a moment, there was silence, and then Shelby sat beside me. I felt her hand slip into mine, pulling it away from my cheek. “I’m sorry, Liam.”

  I looked at her sad face. “Because you don’t love me?”

  “I do love you. Just not the way you want me to.”

  She was lying. I knew she was—her body language screamed it.

  “Why? You can’t, or you won’t let yourself?”

  Her eyes shut, and when they opened, they were filled with pain. “I can’t handle…all of it. It’s all too much. I’m not the right woman for you.” Her voice dropped. “I couldn’t stand losing you.”

  “And you’re certain you would?”

  “It’s the logical conclusion. Your life is vastly different from mine.”

  “You’re already a part of it.”

  “A small part.”

  “No. A far larger part than you realize.”

  She sighed, running a shaky hand through her hair. “Liam—”

  I lifted our clasped hands and kissed hers. “I’m not going to give up, Shelby. But I’ll back off. For now.” I sighed heavily. “Don’t keep yourself away from me. Please. Don’t punish my feelings that way. Don’t punish me.”

  She gasped quietly at my words, as if realizing for the first time how much her distance hurt me.

  “All right.”

  “So, you’ll come Saturday? Hold my hand all night? Keep me calm?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you stop all the bloody cleaning? I can’t possibly be that messy.” I paused. “And please, not another word about curtains and paint colors. I’ll go right mental.”

  A small smile ghosted across her lips. “Okay.”

  “And your music. I never thought I’d say it, but I miss your shit playing in the kitchen. It comforts me.”

  “All right. I’ll play my shit music for you.”

  “Can we be Beaker and Oscar again?”

  “Yes.”

  I heaved a sigh of relief. “Brilliant. Can we finish the Lord of the Rings saga tonight? I’m dying to know how it ends. I think poor little Frodo is in big trouble.”

  Her laughter, however subdued, was music to my ears. “Liam, we’ve watched it twice before. You know Frodo destroys the ring.”

  I huffed at her. “Way to spoil the ending. Just for that, I want extra butter on my popcorn.”

  “Deal.”

  “Okay. Now, go and finish picking your finery.” I stood and walked to the safe. “Wait.” I rummaged around and handed her two boxes. “I want you to wear these.”

  She smiled as she recognized the bracelet, and her eyes widened at the drop earrings that matched.

  “Liam, they are beautiful. I can’t… What if—"

  I held up my hand. “You won’t lose them. You’re wearing them. I want to see them on you. Lily said you’d be wearing your hair up. So, please. For me.”

  “All right.”

  “Okay. Send Everett in, please?”

  She nodded and left. I sat, feeling relieved and discouraged at the same time.

  Had I won the battle but lost the war?

  I needed her on Saturday, but I needed her in my life even more.

  My eyes drifted to the open safe where all the pieces of my nan’s jewelry were stored, and I pulled out the smallest box of all. Although I wanted Shelby to wear all the pieces I had inherited, there was one piece of jewelry I most wanted to see Shelby wearing. A thought I hadn’t been able to get out of my mind since I knew what I was feeling for her. I flipped open the lid, watching the light glint off the antique diamond that was nestled against the dark velvet. My nan’s ring. A unique, beautiful setting—elegant and perfect, just like the woman who I knew was meant to wear it.

  I sighed and put the box back in the safe. Not yet. Not for a long while. But, I hoped, one day.

  I only had to convince her.

  12

  Liam

  Things were better after our talk, but we weren’t back to normal yet. Shelby was still wary, and I tried as hard as I could to be casual—to be simply Oscar, but it was difficult. It was as if now that I realized how deep my feelings went for her, everything was more. I wanted to be around her all the time. I wanted her smiles and laughter. I wanted her every waking moment. I struggled every day not to overwhelm her. She felt something—I knew she did. I had to let her figure it out.

  Saturday, I was anxious for the event, but not the usual sort of anxious I was used to. Because of the fact that we would be out in public and Shelby knew how tense it made me, it would be the perfect excuse to be close to her. Hold her hand. Tuck her into my side without her questioning why. For the first time in a long while, I was looking forward to going out. Everett and Cassidy were meeting us at the benefit for a brief time, as they also had another event to attend. Everett, I knew, was coming to make sure I got in safely and wouldn’t leave until I was comfortable. My car would be waiting to take us home whenever we were ready to leave.

  Shelby was getting ready on her own today. Lily had been by earlier to make sure everything was okay, that my tuxedo was ready and Shelby was set. She had another client tonight, and Shelby and I told her we were fine on our own. The only thing she’d done was help Shelby do her hair.

  I had been ready to go for a while and was now hanging out in the hallway, waiting for Shelby. The car was here, and I called to let her know it was time to go.

  “I’m coming,” she replied.

  My breath left my lungs as I waited for Shelby to make it down the stairs. Once again, Lily had outdone herself. The long dress floated around Shelby as she walked toward me, one shoulder bare and glowing pale against the deep-red hue of her dress.

  I wanted to run my lips across that shoulder.

  I watched her as she descended. Every. Single. Step.

  Thank
God Everett wasn’t here. I was, without a doubt, seriously eye-fucking his sister.

  This time, I didn’t want to stop.

  She was brilliant.

  More than brilliant.

  Shelby was elegance personified.

  Until she tripped on the last step and tumbled into my arms.

  I lunged forward, catching her, and we both chuckled. I nuzzled her head as I helped her to stand back up. “Arse over elbow already, Beaker? All right there?”

  She patted her still-perfect hair. “I’m good.”

  I arched my eyebrow at her as I settled her on her feet. She was much taller than normal.

  “No-go on the low heels?”

  She shook her head. “No. The dress was a little long, and I needed the height, or I’d trip over the hem all night.”

  “The tripping has already started, I think.”

  “I have to get used to them. I’ll be fine.” She looked dubious. “I think.”

  I smirked at her. “Guess I’ll owe you a good foot rub later then?”

  “Bloody right, Oscar. These shoes are killers, in more ways than one. Hundreds of tiny straps of death. We’ll be lucky if I don’t trip over them all night. Never mind the damn dress.”

  I laughed at her use of my favorite expression. “The damn dress is lovely.” I raised her hand and kissed the knuckles. “As are you.”

  I enjoyed the blush that suffused her skin. Douglas was right—every time I complimented her, she blushed. It had to mean something. I was banking on it. “I’ll hold you up, Shelby.”

  “You better.”

  “We’ll hold each other up—deal?”

  She nodded. “Deal.”

  I held out my arm. “Your chariot awaits.”

  She hugged my arm against her. “Let’s hit it.”

  It was the exact sort of benefit I hated. A real industry event. A roomful of actors, directors, producers, front men, and wannabes vying for attention. There were too many egos, too much money, and far too many false smiles crowded into a small area. As arranged, the driver dropped us at the back door, and Shelby and I slipped in unnoticed, while the paps were busy snapping other celebrities and bigwigs walking the red carpet. It didn’t always work, but luck was with us tonight, and we entered without incident. With her beside me, I was completely calm, not even bothered by the huge crowd inside.

 

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